Page 80 of Lawless Rivals

I cover her mouth with my hand and get a kick out of seeing her pretty eyes blow wide.

“Come for me,” I bite out, hips snapping faster, relentless. “Soak my dick, Keira Harrington, before I come inside ya.”

After a beat, she shatters first—back bowing, thighs locking around me, a dirty moan tearing out of her throat, barely muffled by my hand as her inner walls pulse around my length.

The sight of her falling apart for me rips my own release out of me.

My hands move to her ass, and I push in deep one last time, grinding against her clit, and spill inside her with a deep groan, hips jerking through every thick pulse until I’m empty and panting.

She finds her voice first, wrecked and teasing. “I thought you were away all day.”

I pinch her jaw between thumb and forefinger, tilting her face up to meet my eyes while my dick stays buried inside her.

“Spoke to people I needed to and left the rest to Dane to handle,” I mutter against her parted lips, then I kiss her. “I needed to get back to the yard.”

She scrapes her nails across my chest, dragging over my nipples just to make me hiss.

“Oh yeah?” Her voice is soft, taunting. “What’s so important back here?”

I let a slow, crooked smile curve my lips—the kind I know makes her squirm.

“A new horse,” I say, deadpan. “That’s all.”

I swat her ass, pull out and lift her off the counter, setting her down before me. I tell myself this is about proximity and pressure and too many days in close quarters.

But fuck, I’ve been telling myself that since the gala and it’s getting harder to believe.

“You’re finished working for the day,” I tell her, voice dropping low again. “Go back to the cabin. Grab a shower and relax.”

She sways for a second, legs unsteady, cheeks flushed, lips kiss-bruised. My cum is already starting to leak down her inner thigh, and fuck, I like that thought more than I should.

But I force myself to step back, even though every instinct in me says to pull her in again and lock the door for another hour.

“Have you heard anything from my father?” she whispers.

I drag a hand through my hair, grounding myself. “We’ve set up a meeting to talk.”

“When?”

“Later this evening.”

She bends to retrieve her discarded clothes. The motion makes her breasts sway, nipples still tight and taunting, and I hate how easily my focus shifts from strategy to skin. I watch her every move as she steps into the denim, shimmying them up over her hips.

“What about your panties, princess?” I ask when she doesn’t put them on.

“They’re wet,” she says, meeting my gaze without flinching. “And I’m heading back to your place to get naked again.”

This woman is the fucking pulse in my veins. The war and the land and the deal all blur when she looks at me like that.

“So after tonight this will all be over?” she asks, reaching for the damp cotton and bundling it in her hand.

“Yeah.” The word comes out blunt, harder than I mean it to. “You’ll be in your own bed tomorrow night if your da plays nice.”

She pulls her t-shirt over her head and rolls it to her waist. It molds to her breasts, outlining her nipples and slender waist.

I’m still half-hard, cock slick with her when I drag up my jeans, tucking myself away with a hiss at the friction.

She’s watching me now, lips red, hair mussed from yard work and sex, eyes searching for something I can’t give.